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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28705791">Cinnamon Sticks</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mowoshang/pseuds/mowoshang'>mowoshang</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Character Death, Crying, Depression, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Memory Loss, Sad, Suicidal Thoughts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:54:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,561</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28705791</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mowoshang/pseuds/mowoshang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I think,” Tommy begins, dripping lava on the grass and watching it burn, “I think I forgot when it didn’t hurt.”</p><p>And Tubbo can only watch as his best friend — dead and transparent — wipes away at hot tears, flicks them off his cheeks and turns away with red eyes.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Cinnamon Sticks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Im sad so time to write</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tommy picks at the burnt edges of his blanket. Slips his finger through a loop of soft thread and pulls at it, gentle and soft. Soft in a way he wasn’t when he was alive, all pale pink skin and bright blue eyes. He looks different now. Eyes constantly dripping hot and orange lava,  skin grey and transparent and hair an ocean of lava. Lava, lava, lava. His whole being was lava, blood lava, tears lava, hair lava, spit lava, even the way his skin crackled like magma and tore apart to reveal lava underneath, spilling over the edges of his ghostly body. His eyes were red though, white turning pink and glowing orange; the blue had turned grey, from lack of sleep and happiness.</p><p>(Tommy thinks about a calloused hand swiping a thumb below his eye, wiping away a stray tear.)</p><p>He dripped like a candle, and Ghostbur would often poke fun at him and compare him to one, sweeping a gentle thumb over his cheek to wipe away at the tears. It didn’t hurt, and Tommy, Tommy was so happy it didn’t hurt. (He watches a tear tumble through the air, splash onto the grass below and singe it. The lava cooled and turned to igneous rock, shiny and grey.)</p><p>He pulled the thread out, rolled it between his fingers for a bit before tying it and getting up. Tommy didn’t have many places to go, didn’t know who to trust, who to talk to. He clung to Ghostbur, holding onto his shirt as they floated about, greeting faces that Tommy couldn’t remember. He spoke to Dream too, brief and scared, like a rabbit ready to dart away. They didn’t say much, but he thinks he saw Dream hesitate when he saw him step out of the nether portal. He’s not too sure how to feel about him yet.</p><p>(Tommy ignores the stinging in his chest every time he speaks to Dream, ignores the bitter betrayal stuck in his throat, pretends not to think about how Dream lied to him. He can’t really remember why he lied to him though.)</p><p>Tommy.. supposes he could go to Lmanburg, float his way through the nether and step through the next portal. He. He doesn’t know much about Lmanburg. (And he does at the same time, remembers presidents and death, more betrayal than one should go through and anger. He hasn’t been angry in so long. When did he die again?)</p><p>Or he could make a wooden boat, rough with splinters and a lack of knowledge, and make his way across the lake. Could make it to the docks of Lmanburg and arrive that way.</p><p>The nether is faster.</p><p>And so, Tommy picks himself off and pushes the white cotton of the tent aside to walk towards the portal. His physical form is heavy, sluggish in the way that lava is; but it brings him a sense of comfort, belonging. The portal coos, purple washing over Tommy as he steps in. He comes out the other side, stepping onto netherrack and feels it sink below his feet. Tommy makes his way across the lava lake, moves along the cobblestone and obsidian pathway made months before.</p><p>He startles at the sound of the other portal warping him to Dream SMP. He doesn't remember where he is for a second, grey eyes misting over as he stares up into the clouds. A shout startles him out of his daydreaming. Tommy looks down at the community house for a couple of heartbeats before lifting off the ground and making his way inside. He could always float above the buildings like a balloon, meandering here and there. But he chose not to. Perhaps Philza would appreciate his decision to stay grounded, close to the crumbling dirt.</p><p>He passes through the wooden doors and begins to make his way down the path. Prime Church is empty, but the building gives off a gentle white glow from the inside. </p><p>(Tommy remembers. Remembers the clang of a golden bell and the shrill shouts of his friends. Remembers asking about primes, his laugh high and tinkly and wheezy. And then Tommy forgets.)</p><p>He breezes by Tubbo’s burnt home and moves past the buildings built and abandoned over time. Tommy glances at Targay, settling his darkened feet onto the ground. The young ghost stares for a few seconds, before pursing his lips and turning away. He continues up the stairs and towards his empty home, feet heavy on the ground. Tommy doesn’t recognize the stone building right away, but something coils in his chest as he stands in front of it; he presses a pale hand against the doorway, teary eyes brushing over chests still full of useless supplies. He remembers (remembers snickering and teasing, remembers tucking cobblestone away in his chest affectionately, remembers brown hair and striking green eyes and) and he forgets.</p><p>Tommy steps away from his home (but Lmanburg is his home. And Logsteadshire is his home. And Trent is his home. And Tu) to trudge down the wooden pathway leading to Lmanburg. A warm laugh begins in his chest, full and hot and aching, but nothing comes out. He stands at the edge of the bridge and stares down down down down down.</p><p>Lmanburg sits above a crater full of water and coral reefs. (Tommy swallows down the memory of trinitrotoluene, hot and sparking just like the screams of Wilbur and Philza and Techno. Who are they again?) It’s exactly the same as Tommy remembered it, but it’s different at the same time.</p><p>(Where are the walls? Tommy wonders, confused and lost and angry that anyone would destroy his beloved country. His beloved country who never loved him back. Where is the flag? Where is Dream and Sapnap and George and why aren’t they attacking and destroying it all?)</p><p>A gust of wind sweeps Tommy’s hot tears away, cooling them into little hardened bits. He sniffles, wiping black blood from his nose before pushing off the ground. He glides down into Lmanburg, his feet hurt (and at the same time they don’t) from walking on wood and stone. Surprisingly, people bustle around the small country. Niki and Ranboo stand together at the tiny market place, arms linked and buying baking products and shiny earrings, Quackity runs around with Sapnap, George, and Karl, crowing about this and that in a mixture of languages; his voice lilting and higher in his native language. Philza exits his home, dark wings tucked against his back; there are people Tommy knows, and there are people Tommy doesn’t know. His head hurts, and he presses the heel of his hands against his eyes to block out the sights. He feels tears pool and slide down his cheeks, the hissing of lava as it hits the ground his only comfort in the few seconds he floats there. </p><p>It feels like too much, and Tommy understands why Techno disliked going out.</p><p>(Who’s Technoblade?)</p><p>Tommy peels his hands away, rubbing the crumbling and ghostly skin on his pants and ignoring how it looked like magma underneath. Everything was too much, and at the same time, too little. It hurt.</p><p>He gulps in a few breaths, exhales slowly, and begins to make his way into Lmanburg. His skin prickles with the knowledge that he’ll be stared at, stomach rolling at the thought of introducing himself. He’s not sure if it’ll be worth it in the end.</p><p>Tommy regrets not finding out.</p><p> </p><p>He flees into Ghostbur’s little sewer home, tucks himself into his adopted brothers small bed and hopes he’ll forgive him for burning little holes into the blankets (He does, cradles Tommy in his arms and ignores the terrible burning that comes with his younger brothers tears.). Tommy stays there for a while, curled up and missing his small white tent and ratty bed. He spends his time reading and rereading the books that Ghostbur has in his book shelf, wood bent beneath the weight. It brings a few memories back, and it feels like the time he jumped into lava when he was still alive.</p><p>(Why did he jump? He can’t remember.)</p><p>And then the sound of someone climbing down startles Tommy.</p><p>There’s footsteps right outside Ghostbur’s door, and a few gentle knocks before it falls silent again. And then the door creaks open, and someone steps in. Tommy presses himself further into Ghostbur’s bed, pushing a book about Lmanburg close to his chest and hopes that whoever entered wouldn’t investigate further.</p><p>It seems, that perhaps his luck is awful.</p><p>Tommy stares as a brown headed boy walks into the room that Tommy is in, Ghostbur’s name dying on his tongue. The boy is dressed nicely, with a pretty dark blue suit and golden epaulettes on his shoulders. There’s golden buttons as well, and his pants and shoes match his top half nicely. Tommy thinks that this boy, all clean and fancy looking, has pretty eyes; like the green of a turtles back. But, that seems like an awful resemblance.</p><p>”Hullo..!” Tommy greets, sweet and soft voiced and teary eyed. He blinks when the stranger lets out a sob, it sounds a little like he’s being choked. His chest aches, and he wonders why. “I’m Tommy, why are you sad?”</p><p>And it seems, that perhaps, he hurt this pretty eyed stranger more than he wanted to.</p>
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